


Sacrifice

by DrewWrites



Series: DCTV One Shots [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 7, M/M, Post-Crisis on Infinite Earths Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 05:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19144195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrewWrites/pseuds/DrewWrites
Summary: Barry says goodbye to Oliver.





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Going back to my tumblr fanfic roots with some Olivarry. I watched the Arrow season 7 finale, balled my eyes out, and I have been sad ever since. I'm really not ready to let go. So I wrote angst.

“I thought you’d stopped lying to me,” Barry says. He shifts on his feet, fiddles with his suit sleeves. They were supposed to know everything about each other. Every secret and detail. Every like and dislike. Best friends through and through.

The night remains silent, a silence that can only be the aftermath of a flurry of emotion and downpour of hurt. The air is heavy with it. The lingering echoes of words, the moisture of tears. 

Barry can see the stars clearly this far from the city.

A warm chill runs through Barry and he pulls his jacket tighter around himself.

“You aren’t scolding me for staying out in the cold. It feels wrong,” he says. No response. He huffs and tares his eyes away, staring off into the tree line.

When he looks back, the gravestone still has “Oliver Queen” carved into its surface.

The air is still. There’s no wind to blame the tears on. It doesn’t matter anyway, the tears had already been streaming down Barry’s face all day.

“You told me that it was okay, that you didn’t trade your life.”

Barry takes a deep breath and crouches down. They knew each other so well. Barry knew that Oliver got ansty if their apartment got too messy, that he loved city lights and noise, that he loved his family and would do anything for them. 

Oliver knew that Barry would never let him trade his life for Barry. That he couldn’t tell Barry.

“It could’ve been me. It should’ve been. Ollie I-” He reaches his hand out towards the headstone, but quickly draws it back, not wanting to feel the chill of night reflected on the damp stone.

“I don’t know how to do this without you. This, all of this, started with you. Roy, Thea, Laurel, Dinah, Rene, The Legends. Me. I don’t know how to be a hero without you.” Barry drops his head between his knees.

The leaves behind him rustle and he pushes himself to his feet, half glancing over his shoulder.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says, wiping away the tears on his face, only for more to replace them. Joe walks up to his side and places a hand on his shoulder.

“You can take your time, son. I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to be alone,” Joe says. Barry’s face fills with more tears. He nods his head.

“I don’t know what to do, Joe.”

“I know, Bare.”

“Joe, I- I don’t know what to do. He’s gone, Joe I-” Joe’s arms come up to wrap around Barry, and Barry slumps against his foster father.

Barry clings to Joe’s jacket, sobbs raining down his body. 

All he can hear is Oliver’s voice telling him that’ll it be okay, that he loves him. That he’s sorry. He’s afraid that if he closes his eyes, he’ll see Oliver’s body on the ground, cold and lifeless. Blood lining every curve of his face.

It takes a few minutes for the sobs to stop, Joe standing steady and strong through all of it.

Barry is quiet for a moment before he slips out of Joe’s arms and turns back to the grave.

“I loved him, Joe.”

The words drop into the night with no more than a whisper, and the air stiffens further, the weight of breathing becomes heavier. 

But nothing happens.

Barry’s heart still feels thick with rain, and he thinks he’s still crying but he isn’t sure.

Oliver’s grave is still stone and condensation.

Barry takes one last look at the curvature of Oliver’s name in the stone, the color of the flowers laid in front, commits it all to memory. He reaches out, brushes his fingers over the top.

The stone is hard and smooth, but warm to the touch. Barry takes his hand away and turns toward the car, Joe following behind.

He doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> FInd me on tumblr: andrew-writes-things


End file.
